


he loves me cause i'm cute, he thinks i'm pretty funny

by its_tortle



Series: tumblr drabbles and ficlets [13]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bucky is hilarious, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Smitten Steve Rogers, Social Media, Steve thinks so too, TikTok, Twitter, Wordcount: Over 1.000, but only barely, but people on tumblr really liked it so, this is silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:06:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29828820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_tortle/pseuds/its_tortle
Summary: He watches it back one more time after it posts, checking for typos in his subtitles and captions, and has to laugh again.Steve fucking Rogers? His brain thought he could pull Captain America, literal superhero and America’s favorite sweetheart?“Hello I’m a 35 year old amputee living in New York and I think that I could get Steve Rogers.”ORthe one where bucky postsa tiktokand steve is utterly smitten.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: tumblr drabbles and ficlets [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951201
Comments: 80
Kudos: 426





	1. the first tiktok

**Author's Note:**

> okay so.. i wasn't planning on putting this on ao3 but everyone on tumblr seemed to like it a whole lot, and i just discovered it's over 1k, so i might as well.
> 
> i hope you like my silly nonsense.
> 
> title from the beautiful song inc. by dori valentine.

[this tiktok](https://va.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_qp07qhgw0M1xdl1ew_720.mp4) is quite important for context.

☆

Bucky is still laughing to himself, wheezing and breathless, as he posts the video to his TikTok.

He doesn’t post much, only has four uploads before this one, but he simply felt he had to share the audacity of his brain with his 32 followers. Not that anyone will see it, except Becca maybe. She’ll make fun of him for it at the usual dinner with mom on Sunday.

He watches it back one more time after it posts, checking for typos in his subtitles and captions, and has to laugh again.

Steve fucking Rogers? His brain thought he could pull Captain America, literal superhero and America’s favorite sweetheart? 

“Hello I’m a 35 year old amputee living in New York and I think that I could get Steve Rogers.”

His voice dissolves into laughter, and Bucky snorts to himself again before he closes his app and puts his phone down. He really needs to put the wine away for the night.

Alpine eyes him wearily as he gets up from the sofa and takes his glass to the kitchen, putting it next to the sink instead of on the counter for a refill. Noting the routine, she jumps down from the windowsill and makes her way to his bedroom. Probably to get hair all over his pillow before he lays his face down on it.

Menace.

He leaves the glass next to the sink and goes back to the living room to retrieve his phone from the folds of his throw blanket. He blows out the scented candles on his cabinet.

He’s in bed twenty minutes later, his phone charging beside him. Maybe because of his long shift at the shop, or maybe because of the wine, he falls asleep after only a few tosses and turns. There is indeed a bunch of cat hair on his pillow.

\--

When he wakes up, it’s the loud blaring of his alarm and an Alpine kneading her claws in the duvet over his ribs. 

He groans.

She meows.

Bucky pushes her off of his torso and goes to turn off the blaring of his phone. He succeeds after a few sleepy tries, and then just lies there for another ten five minutes.

He’s not a morning person.

When his alarm blares a second time, Bucky groans and turns it off again. This time, he rubs his hand over his face and lets out a long breath. He stretches.

Reluctantly, he gets up from the warmth of his covers and grabs his phone from the nightstand. He slides his feet into his slippers and walks blearily to the bathroom, turning on the water cooker on his way as per usual. 

When he checks his phone in the bathroom though, it’s very much out of the ordinary. He has _tons_ of TikTok notifications.

Frowning, he opens the app to find they’re all on his Steve Rogers video, the one from last night. He rewatches it again.

It’s funny, sure, but almost ten _thousand_ views? Over two hundred comments? What the fuck. Bucky has almost a hundred new followers, too.

Still not quite sure he’s not hallucinating, he closes the app and goes to his messages to text Becca, only to find that she’s already texted him.

_I cant believe your stupid superhero crush made you tiktok famous._

Bucky can’t help but feel smug as he goes to wash his hands. He and Becca had a running bet on TikTok views going. And it looks like he won.

He texts her back with that smug smile still on his face. 

_well i just cant help that im hilarious can i_

_(also wtf is going on)_

His phone dings again when Bucky is barely back in his room.

_Fuck off. This was luck.._

_(Beats me)_

And then, before Bucky can even finish typing out a response, another one comes through.

_I hope Cap sees it and calls you out._

_sdfghjk pls no_

It’s not his most eloquent response, but it channels his feelings about that scenario pretty accurately.

Steve does not need to see Bucky be an overconfident disaster of a human being, and he sure as hell won’t. He’s Captain America, for fuck’s sake. He’s busy saving the world.

Bucky uses the hair tie on his wrist to throw his hair up in a dreadfully messy bun as he makes his coffee. He refills Alpine’s bowl and gets no thanks in response, of course. He’s still rolling his eyes at her as he gets a yogurt out of the fridge.

Despite his absolutely insane TikTok numbers, it’s a normal morning.

He finishes his first cup of coffee over his twitter feed and then forces his thighs into skinny jeans that he bought before he gained the weight he now carries. He looks in the mirror and is over-critical of the spot on his chin and the way the t-shirt makes his chest look, and then fusses over his hair for twenty minutes. Alpine does a whole lot of insistent mewling as if he hasn’t just fed her. And then he’s off to work.

It’s a normal day in the shop, too. None of his coworkers seem to know that Bucky’s blown up on TikTok over night -- not that that’s surprising given they’re all over forty -- and he fixes two leaky cooling pipes. He gets car oil in his hair.

But then, ten minutes before his lunch break, his phone rings in his pocket. He sighs and gets up from under the car, only to see that it’s Becca.

With his eyebrows drawing up into a frown, he picks up. “Becca? Everything okay?”

“Steve Rogers is looking for you on twitter.”

Bucky’s brain short-circuits. “He what?”

“Check his twitter,” she says, and then the line goes dead.

Still frowning, he does.

And holy fucking shit.

At 11:36 AM, Steve Rogers, with the blue tick next to his name, had retweeted a recording of Bucky’s TikTok with Steve’s tag, and written

_I do find him charming. What’s his twitter?_

There were so many replies, many of them excited, some of them jealous, a whole lot of them trying to find Bucky’s private 24 follower twitter account. 

(He only used it to troll Trump and keep up with Steve Rogers, really.)

In a disbelieving haze, Bucky retweets it.

_can’t believe my unearned confidence payed off_

He can hear his heartbeat ferociously in his ears, even as his boss asks him what he’s doing staring at his screen.

What the actual fuck is happening.

This can’t be real life.

Steve Rogers wants to know his twitter. Righteous, hilarious, heroic, super-soldier, beautiful Steve Rogers finds him charming.

Bucky thinks he must be dreaming.

Just as he’s about to dissociate completely, his phone pings again.

It’s a twitter dm, with a blue checkmark.

_I don’t think it’s unearned at all._

_Are you free for coffee sometime?_

Bucky’s fingers move faster than his brain, and suddenly he’s apologizing for the weird TikTok, and making plans to meet Steve Rogers for coffee that weekend.

Maybe his intrusive thoughts were onto something, afterall.


	2. the second tiktok

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wasn't actually planning on making this more than i single drabble, but so many people on tumblr and a few people here said they wanted a part two, so here it is. 
> 
> i hope you like it :)

Steve stands outside of the coffeeshop with sweaty hands, wondering for the fiftieth time if this wasn’t a horrible idea.

It probably was.

After all, he doesn’t know this guy at all. They had exchanged, like, five messages. His name is Bucky, he’s a mechanic, and he refused to meet before 11 am. That’s it. That’s all Steve knows.

Who the hell is Steve to ask someone out he knows nothing about? It’s not like him at all.

But when Clint had sent him that stupid little video (TikTok, his brain supplies), his fingers were pressing the retweet button before he had even told them to. Sam was also hyping him up beside him, which certainly didn’t hurt.

The man in the video was just so  _ cute _ . And funny, and earnest, and Steve wanted to run his fingers through that soft-looking hair and kiss his laughing, scrunched up nose. He  _ did _ find him charming. So charming that he had fucking  _ asked him out _ after a  _ 38 second video. _

Jesus.

His spiraling mind is interrupted by a timid greeting behind him, and when Steve turns, he’s faced with the beautiful guy, with Bucky.

Steve’s mind is spiraling all over again, because  _ fuck.  _

He’s even more gorgeous in real life, which Steve honestly didn’t think was possible.

Bucky’s only a few inches short of Steve’s often imposing 6’2, and while he’s definitely leaner than him, he too is packed with extremely attractive muscle under his soft-looking sweater. His hair is half up, falling in whips around his face, around his beautifully sculpted cheekbones. His short stubble suits him so well, and somehow only accentuates the cleft in his chin that Steve suddenly aches to press his thumb into. Bucky looks up at Steve in a timid excitement with his stormy gray eyes.

And his  _ mouth _ -

Steve can’t even think about his mouth.

“Hey,” he greets after what was probably too long a moment. “Bucky.”

Bucky grins, and Steve thinks he might faint.

“Hey,” the brunet returns. “Part of me definitely thought I was being catfished by some random Ukrainian hacker with a long beard, so this is a good surprise.”

“Yeah? ‘Cause if you want, I’m sure I could fly in a Ukranian hacker with a long beard, “Steve smiles, surprised at his own confidence. Bucky makes it easy somehow.

Bucky huffs out an enchanting little laugh. “Nah, I’m good. This is better.”

They stand there for a prolonged moment, staring dumbly at each other. There’s a beautiful unknown glimmering between them.

“Coffee?” Steve asks finally, motioning to the door.

Bucky nods, and they go inside.

Steve worries for a moment as he holds open the door that Bucky will find his outdated cordiality offensive, but he just smiles and colors a little.

They make small talk as they get in the thankfully short line at the counter. Small talk is always awkward, Steve thinks, but somehow it isn’t now.

Or maybe it is and he’s just too charmed to notice.

Steve is a regular at this coffeeshop, so they luckily don’t attract too many stares. The few pairs of eyes he can feel avert themselves rather quickly, if out of respect or disinterest, Steve doesn’t know. He’s grateful for it either way.

Once they sit down with their orders -- a black coffee for Steve and a vanilla latte with cream for Bucky -- they’ve discussed the unusually warm weather that spring, and the fact that the MTA sucks because it doesn’t have enough funding. They’re both pretty clearly nervous, but they work anyhow. Steve finds that Bucky is easy to talk to, one of the very few people that are in the 21st century.

They lapse into a silence after their first few sips.

Steve watches Bucky and itches for a pencil. He wants to trace the curve of his upper lip with his pencil and then with his tongue.

He really needs to get a grip.

“I’m really sorry for that weird Tiktok,” Bucky says suddenly. “I honestly thought I was just being ridiculous and that maybe my sister would think it was funny. I wasn’t expecting-” he cuts himself off, motioning vaguely. 

“For me to ask you out?”

Bucky looks down at his drink with a disbelieving laugh. “Yeah.”

“Well,” Steve shrugs, “I also thought it was funny. And you’re really pretty, so.”

Steve grimaces. “That was not the right word to use. Not- Not that you’re not pretty, because,  _ Jesus _ , you are, but it’s probably not what you want to hear. I mean, you’re not- You’re a man, so it’s not-” Steve clamps his mouth shut. “I’m gonna stop right there before I dig my hole even deeper.”

Bucky laughs, but it’s not mean. It’s light and happy. 

“I’ll take the compliments where I can get them,” he grins. 

They sit there for a moment, just smiling a little dumbly. Steve watches the sunlight from outside filter in through the windows and paint Bucky’s hair auburn. His face is still burning up.

“I’m sorry,” he says after a moment. “I’m probably nothing like the guy you were expecting I was.”

It’s a constant struggle in this century, Steve finds. Sure, people had their preconceived notions about Captain America back in the 40s, too, but then he wasn’t folklore. Now, people have had seventy years to dress him up and shape him into some perfect American idol, strong and confident and perfect. That’s not what he is. He and Captain America aren’t always the same person.

Some stupid part of him thinks that maybe Bucky will be part of the many that find they don’t like Steve half as much as they do Cap, but when he looks back up from his coffee, the brunet is smiling.

“I don’t even know what I was expecting,” Bucky says, eyes twinkling. “And yet, somehow, you’ve exceeded it all.”

Steve blushes, but he’s grinning. Bucky grins back.

“So,” Bucky smiles, taking another sip of his coffee. “How do you feel about bitchy cats?”

Steve isn’t the biggest fan of cats -- rather, he thinks they’re not the biggest fans of his -- but he’ll easily make an exception.

“I heal fast,” he shrugs.

Bucky’s grin widens.

\--

Two weeks and millions of TikTok views and retweets later, Bucky is on his sofa with his feet on Steve’s lap and Alpine on his thighs. 

The record player in the corner is playing the masterpiece that is the Notting Hill soundtrack, and Bucky is humming along as he scrolls through his For You page. Steve’s pencil scratches the page of his notebook in a satisfying rhythm. 

Bucky watches some woman with perfectly manicured nails make baking a cake look way easier than it is, and then scrolls past a white girl doing a TikTok dance and yet another Sea Shanty. 

His thumb stops when he reads the closed captions on the next one. It’s not that he really cares what guy she’s going to turn the camera to in a few seconds, but it’s that this is the uptenth time he’s seen this audio used in the past few days, and he kind of thinks it’s hilarious.

Plus, all of his TikTok comments and twitter mentions and fucking  _ Buzzfeed _ want updates on him and Steve, if they ever met up and if they’re having a whirlwind romance started by a stupid TikTok.

Smiling to himself, Bucky clicks on the audio and selects the post button, unmuting as he goes.

He makes sure his hair looks okay and that there’s no food in his teeth, and then clicks record.

“Show you,” the automated voice says, and Bucky smiles and throws a peace sign in the corner of the screen because he’s gay like that.

“And then show what you ride.”

When he flips the camera, Steve, already looking up from his sketchbook and realizing what Bucky is doing, snorts and turns bright red. He hides his face in his hand, but he’s laughing when the video cuts off.

Bucky rewatches it and grins.

“Can I post it?”

Steve considers him for a moment, face still red and lips quirked up. “Fine,” he sighs. “But only because Tucker Carlson will hate it.”

Bucky cheers, and clicks post.

He pushes Alpine off of his lap so that he can climb onto Steve’s and kiss him, sketchbook be damned.

And Steve fucking Rogers let’s him. Because he  _ does _ find him charming, against all odds.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are so dearly appreciated :)
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](https://its-tortle.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
